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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29812632">please don't push me away</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nucodiangelo/pseuds/nucodiangelo'>nucodiangelo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>when I kissed the teacher smau [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, M/M, Social Media AU, Sorta Love Confession, a little no homo angst if you will</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:54:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,486</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29812632</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nucodiangelo/pseuds/nucodiangelo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t expect you to love me back. I just want you to know that you’re loved,” He says, glancing away from the mirror to check the road, which is slippery with ice and snow, “You’re loved. So loved. I just want you to know that. I don’t expect anything from you.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>when I kissed the teacher smau [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>please don't push me away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is prose for the social media au @kissedteacherau update #281</p><p>thanks to my BETA Cole for the extra commas, you know how to treat a girl right.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eddie checks his texts for the fifth time in under a minute. Still no texts. He walks into the kitchen, opens the fridge, thinks about how he isn’t really hungry, closes the door. Aragon and Shadow are sitting next to each other in the doorway to the living room, looking at him like they understand he’s stressed. His stomach twists uncomfortably, anxiety rolling through his body and up his chest in cold waves, and for a moment he thinks he might throw up from it. He hurries over to the sink to get a glass of water. The nausea passes just as quickly as it arrived, and he leans against the counter for a moment just to feel the cold press of the marble against his stomach. This is getting ridiculous. It has never taken Richie this long to reply to a text before. In the three months, plus a few weeks, that Eddie has known him, Richie has never taken more than a few minutes to reply, no matter the context of the text. So the only plausible explanation for his silence right now is that Eddie has freaked him out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He must have read the signs wrong. Must have conjured up the idea of Richie loving him back, looking too much into the looks and the touches. Misunderstood the way Richie let him touch his dick in the bathroom of Audra and Kay’s house, and the way he kissed him tenderly on Eddie’s birthday. He’s stupid for not realising it before. The way Richie always asked to just ignore it, that there was nothing to talk about because they were friends, and apparently that’s how Richie treats all of his friends. He has probably had sex with all of them, besides Bev, at least once in his life, so maybe that’s just his things. Eddie tries to force down the overwhelming jealousy he feels at that thought, and breathes deeply in and out. It’s fine. Eddie can deal with it. He has been into people who didn’t like him back before. It isn’t the end of the world to love someone who doesn’t want him in the same way. Eddie will love him despite it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But why does it feel like it? Like it’s the end of the world. Like the mere thought that Richie genuinely only sees him as a friend makes something cold and heavy settle deep in his stomach, coiling around his intestines and burrows itself into his chest, painfully and intensely. Why does it feel like he’ll never get over it, like it’ll affect him for the rest of his life to be rejected by Richie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not fair. Richie doesn’t owe him anything. He doesn’t have an obligation to love Eddie back just because Eddie couldn’t help falling for him. Richie and his sweet smiles and wonky eyes and loud laughs. Richie with his gentle touches and big hands and stupid shirts. It’s like someone, be it god or some twisted matrix gamerunners or whatever other cosmic all knowing entity, created Richie solely to get under Eddie’s skin. Like he was carefully put together, every trait, quirk and flaw, to be the perfect man for Eddie. Like in every universe, every dimension, every lifetime, Eddie is destined to fall in love with Richie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie almost jumps out of his skin as his phone buzzes over on the kitchen island, and he almost pulls a muscle whipping around and throwing himself across the kitchen to grab for it. The disappointment that hits him when he sees Beverly’s display photo, and not Richie’s, is so overwhelming it leaves him dizzy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Swallowing it down, he presses the phone to his ear, “Hello, Bev.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie! You haven’t responded in the group chat so I thought I would just call you. We’re talking about having a little dinner party before we all go home for the holidays, so we’re trying to figure out when we all leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Eddie stutters, “I haven’t bought tickets yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fine! Stan and I are both staying here, because we have family issues. Or he has family issues and I have no family, so. Bill and Mike are going to Washington on the 19th, and then Richie leaves for Chicago on the 11th, so it has to be before then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie stares down at his bare feet, pale against the deep terracotta of his kitchen tiles. “Uh. The semester ends on the 17th, right? So I’ll probably leave that evening or the next day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Super!” Bev says, sounding excited, “Alright, then we’ll plan accordingly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Eddie says, for lack of a better response, still feeling anxious and numb, and not quite sure what he is supposed to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, are you alright? You sound a bit. Uh, not alright,” Bev says, her tone switched over to something more concerned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Eddie lies, and then, “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on, babes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh.” Eddie takes a deep breath. “You know how I- I know you know that… Fuck. I’m in love with Richie, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bev pauses, the only thing Eddie can hear from the other end of the line is her breathing, and then she says, very slowly and very carefully, “Yes, I know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” Eddie nods, even though she can’t see him. “So. I told him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Bev gasps. “Right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Twenty minutes ago.” Eddie says, glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s shaped like a duck—a birthday gift from Patty a few years ago that Richie heckled him ruthlessly about the first time he was over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bev hums, sounding impatient, “Yes. And how did it go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie groans, “He hasn’t responded yet! That’s why I’m not alright!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There comes a strangled laugh from the other end of the line, “You told him over text?” She sounds incredulous. “Eddie! That’s not the sort of thing you tell someone over text.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that!” Eddie yells, and then feels a bit bad about yelling at her. It’s not her fault. “Of course I know that. But things have been so weird between us lately, with the whole date thing and the kiss and everything that has ever happened between us. And I tried to ask him if he was busy so I could come over because I wanted to have an actual grown up conversation about it since we’ve avoided it for months, but he never responded.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bev huffs, “Then why didn’t you wait until tomorrow and talk to him after work? Or just drive over there without a text back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie groans. “Because I’m so afraid, Bev. I’m freaking out. I like him so much—I’m in love with him, and it scares the shit out of me because I’ve never been in love before, not like this. So when I finally mustered up the bravery to even consider finally telling him, I just had to do it right away, and now I feel like I’ve messed up because he’s not responding so he clearly doesn’t feel the same but just doesn’t know how to tell me! And I’ll have to face him tomorrow, surrounded by students who rely on us to not only be professional adults, but to get along, and I’m gonna have a nervous breakdown! And fuck! Why hasn’t he texted me back, Bev!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence is deafening, and Eddie realises he’s been yelling, getting louder and louder with each word. He winces slightly at himself, feeling pathetic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Calm down, honey.” Bev says soothingly, “I don’t want to get too in between this thing with you two, but I will say that you have genuinely nothing to worry about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean by that?” Eddie whines, “I’m going insane here. I need concrete words. Don’t pull some vague shit out of your ass that could literally mean anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bev laughs, “I’m not! I don’t want to betray Richie’s trust, but for the sake of you two getting your goddamn shit together- Just go over there. I promise you there must be a really good reason for him not responding. That dude is obsessed with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obsessed with me…” Eddie repeats, “Like- As a friend? In a platonic, friendly way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groans, “Oh Jesus fucking Christ. I won’t give you all the answers! But no! Whatever shit he’s told you about just wanting to be friends, or not wanting to ruin your friendship, is solely because he has some personal issues. He's a bit of an idiot, and he never believes someone likes him. So get your ass in the car and go tell him how you feel in real life with real feelings and real words, and stop waiting for the universe to push you together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fucking hell. Fuck, ok! Fuck!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One more for good luck?” She laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.” Eddie replies, and then hangs up before he can chicken out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost trips over Aragon on his way to his bedroom to find a shirt, because in the sudden energy change of Eddie running through the house, he must have thought they were going to go outside and play. Eddie doesn’t have time to feel bad for accidentally tricking his dog. He rips open his closet and pulls the first sweater he finds over his head, which happens to be a muppets sweatshirt he got when he and Patty went to see the Muppets Take Manhattan rerun back in 2014. He doesn’t bother with socks, just shoves his feet into the sandles he hasn’t used since summer and runs out the door. The cold snow is painful against his bare feet, but he’s in the car within seconds, so he doesn’t bring himself to care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie spends the entirety of the five minute drive over to Richie and Ben’s apartment glancing at himself in the rearview mirror as he practises what he’s going to say out loud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t expect you to love me back. I just want you to know that you’re loved,” He says, glancing away from the mirror to check the road, which is slippery with ice and snow, “You’re loved. So loved. I just want you to know that. I don’t expect anything from you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groans, banging his fist against the wheel. He sounds stupid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t push me away,” He mutters to himself, “Please stay in my life. No matter which way. I want you in it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s pulling into the driveway before he even knows it, staring up at the light shining through the window of Richie and Ben’s apartment. He can’t see any movement inside, but all the lamps are on. He takes a few moments to breathe, counting slowly with every inhale and exhale, hands shaking against the steering wheel. He can do this. He can be brave. He can put his heart on the line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting out of the car and walking up the stairs to the second floor of the apartment complex, Eddie feels like he’s in a dream. His heart is hammering painfully in his chest, and his vision is blurry. He doesn’t remember raising his hand to press the doorbell, but he sees his finger against the button. Part of him hopes Ben answers the door, so he’ll have a little extra time to collect himself. When no one opens the door in over a minute, Eddie presses the button again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe no one's home? Bev hadn’t said anything about Ben being at her place, but it’s very plausible. Maybe Richie is out, getting groceries or seeing a movie. The lights are on inside, but that doesn’t have to mean anything. Richie is horrible with remembering shit, so it wouldn’t surprise him if he left the apartment without turning them off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another minute passes, and Eddie is just about to turn around and leave, when the door creaks open. Richie is standing there, looking rumpled and flushed, wearing nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” He asks, almost before the door is fully open, and then his eyes widen comically. “Oh. Eddie… Uh, hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie cocks his head to the side, trying to wrangle his heart into submission. It’s beating so hard in his chest he feels physically ill. Richie looks soft and sweet, chest wide and hairy, stomach soft. Eddie wants to sink his teeth into him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you taking a nap?” Eddie asks, his voice a few octaves higher than usual. God, get it together Kaspbrak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh.” Richie stutters, still looking like a deer caught in headlights, “No. Yes. I was about to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie narrows his eyes at Richie’s nervous splutter, “Alright, sorry, didn’t mean to… distract you from your nap. But. Uh, did you see my texts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie scratches the back of his neck, which makes the skin of his chest stretch deliciously and the muscle of his arm flex, “No, sorry, I- My phone’s in the kitchen. I haven’t looked at it in a few hours…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, what did you text me?” Richie asks, leaning against the doorway, still looking skittish and nervous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- Uh. Can I come inside?” Eddie asks, feeling his bravery slowly but surely bleed out of his bones and out through his pores. He feels sweaty and cold. The way Richie keeps looking like he wants to slam the door in his face isn’t exactly helping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” Richie stops, looking very pale, “I don’t… I really want that nap, actually. Can we. Can we talk tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie feels his brows furrow. “No I- It’s kind of important.” He tries, “I need to tell you something. Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie goes even paler. “You. You want to tell me something. You came over. To tell me something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie nods. “Yes. Can I please come in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie’s interrupted by a noise behind him in the hallway, “Richie, who the fuck is there?” A voice says, and then Stan pops into view over Richie’s shoulder, shirtless and messy haired, “Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Eddie agrees, feeling his heart drop into the bottom of his stomach, “I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie don’t-” Richie tries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! No. No, it’s- Don’t worry! You’re napping together!” Eddie lets out a truly hysterical sounding laugh, feeling unhinged and utterly humiliated, “Don’t mind me, I’ll get going. Haha! Just. Uh, get back to it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie, please let me-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie has already backed up towards the stairs, his mouth in a wide unhinged grimace, “No! Don’t stress, haha, it’s cool! Just. Uh.” He coughs, grabbing onto the railing like a lifeline, scared he’s going to pass out without it, “Just, ignore those texts! I- It was. Just ignore it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie…” Richie whimpers, stepping out of the apartment onto the icy landing, looking panicked and hurt. He shouldn’t get to feel hurt right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” Eddie says, his voice breaking over the word, “Just please ignore it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets one last look at Richie’s stricken face, pale skin and wide panicked eyes before he’s running down the stairs and getting in his car.</span>
</p>
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